


There will be singing, About the dark times

by OpalRhea, phirephox666



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Gen, Links included, Mechanisms Music, Mechanisms!Jon, Tags to be added, Team as Family, canon atypical happiness, pre season 3 finale, songfic-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 05:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalRhea/pseuds/OpalRhea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/phirephox666/pseuds/phirephox666
Summary: Before he joined the Institute, Jon Sims used to be in a band. This changes things, tightens bonds between the Archive staff. Maybe even enough to change what is Known
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 356





	There will be singing, About the dark times

There’s music playing when Jon and Daisy emerge from the trap door. It’s loud and it’s angry, and Jon thinks he can hear Melanie scream-singing along. It takes a second for him to recognise what she’s listening to.

[ Old King Cole was not missold, of years he had a hundred score,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DO8M2WnggXQ)  
_The dark appliance of infernal science would give him millennia more_  
_And he would watch as the suns burned out, collapsing from their core  
_ _Oh, never to forgive he would eternal live, his hands stained red from gore._

Daisy gives him a strange look as he starts to cackle, a strange look that becomes slightly guarded when he straightens up and makes his way towards where the music is blaring. She seems to think he’s going to put a stop to this.  
Jon absolutely _ is not _.

He wonders if Melanie knows that he had been a part of that music.

She does.   
Jon enters the room, and Melanie looks him right in the eyes, a half scowl on her face, and very obviously turns the music up, as if daring him to comment.

Her surprise is clear when he clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, before starting to half sing half snarl to the final stanza and chorus.  
He knows he’s missed some of the musical cues, can hear himself on the speakers, slightly out of pace with his voice now. It has been far too long since he’s done this.

Jon can feel his body start to loosen as he sings, old habits rising to the surface as he finds himself careening gleefully back into the skin of Jonny d’Ville. There’s something freeing about feeling that other him, wild reckless movement and voice, far removed from the Archivist he had never intended to become. There’s a violence bubbling up, anger and frustration and pain he’s internalized for so long, all of it coming out in the music he hasn’t touched in years. 

Another familiar tune (‘_[No-One](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOB7wHzQTjI)’ _ his memory supplies) starts, and he grins, all teeth and sharp edges at Melanie, trying to coax her into joining. He's amused to see that she still looks shocked. He wants to bring back the rage he had heard the edges of when emerging from those hollow, crushingly empty tunnels. There’s a new energy in his bones as Melanie starts to grin just a little. Teeth and rage more than joy, but a smile all the same, and when she joins in Jon feels a little bit like he’s never left the stage.

It still feels off slightly. He knows he stutters on some of the lyrics and cues, but he can feel them starting to unfurl in his mind, letting him Know things he should remember.  
Melanie bites out a chorus, glee tinting the rage. She’s becoming looser as well, swept up by his frantic energy, so much larger than himself in that moment.

_ My name is no-one_  
_My name is no-one_  
_My name is no-one  
_ _And I ain’t got nothing to lose!_

The words of the chorus are an almost snarl in the direction of Elias’ office, and a part of him rages at what had been done to her, to all of them. (Regret had never been a specialty of Jonny d’Ville, but rage and revenge had and maybe Jon could step into that skin a little more fully.) His voice sinks into that rougher edge, easier now that he’s confident he’s not going to fuck up the lyrics. There’s a looseness to his body and he can’t help but flourish a bit when emphasis is needed. 

_ ‘No-One’ _ reaches its end, and he can feel Daisy and Martin’s astonishment at this side of him, all that energy tightly coiled, sprung free and infectious.  
“C’mon King, give me a _ challenge _.” he lets himself drawl, lets d’Ville’s desire for a good time, or some good violence, lace his voice. A far more agreeable compulsion than this fucking place allows him. Melanie glares at him, but she’s trying not to laugh, so he counts that as a win. 

“Shit, Sims. You’re half bearable when you don’t have that stick up your arse.” Daisy laughs, and Martin half squawks, and he laughs in kind, much more of Jon’s surprised laughter than D’Ville’s raucous cackle.  
He sweeps an arm out, to encompass Melanie and Martin and Daisy herself, but more than that the music that still lingered heavy in the air, loose and grinning. “I suppose we’re in my territory now.”  
“You want a challenge, asshole?” Despite the aggression, Melanie is grinning at him so he knows it’s fine (She seems better now. More present and less jagged. He’s relieved.)  
  
When the first few notes start he wants to groan. But like hell is he going to let Melanie show him up here and now. This is his territory and he’s already made a show of it, he’s not going to fuck up his own music. He takes the few seconds of build into the song to roll his shoulders back, arms falling loose at his side.   
Martin offers him a mic with a fond little smile. (Why does it still surprise him that Martin could find a mic on such short notice?)

[ Through the breaking cracks in space](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34ehffyZMgw)  
_They come a pace a thousand faces_  
_Screaming, tearing through from where_  
_The starlight bare will die uncaring_  
_Through the walls their squamous calls_  
_Will bring their falls now victims one and all_  
_ Tearing at the seams, their now eternal screams  
_ _Will sound upon the breeze in the corner of dreams_

The first verse comes easier than Jon expects, the words tripping smoothly off his tongue. The words come easier still when he hears Daisy starting to stomp out the beat. Martin takes a moment or two longer, before he starts to clap along. Martin seems delighted, and Daisy looks thrilled at this new side to him. Melanie is burning fire bright and she fits in her body so much better than she had, even an hour ago.

And is that a second set of stomping Jon hears, just barely loud enough over the pulsing music? It _is_! He feels a rush of elation in the frenzy of Jonny d’Ville as he realises that Tim is lurking at the edges of the room, and _ oh, _he isn’t bolting. There’s surprise painted across his face, but at the same time there’s a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Jon hasn’t seen that since Prentiss’ attack.

He saunters over to Melanie’s abandoned computer and for a moment he considers Gunpowder Tim, wanting to see if he couldn’t directly nudge Tim into joining them.  
But he rejects that after a thought. That was too direct, too likely to make Tim bolt back down the tunnels. 

And then he sees it, and grins slightly manic. There’s a click, and he pushes himself back from the table with a flourish. 

[ Oh when the red rose, it comes a-marching](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoZLqq3aX38)  
_Well, we will fight, we will fight, fight for our boy Jack_  
_Oh when the red rose, it comes a-marching  
_ _Spit in the face of history!_

Jon angles his body towards Tim, still lurking on the edges, as he sings the first verse. Lets the music issue its own invitation, tempt Tim into joining. For an instant, it looks like Tim is going to walk away, and the music hangs for a long moment, before Tim steps forward and starts belting. Jon concedes the floor with a laugh, to share this moment. Now all this needs is for Basira to come down.  
The question remains, would she step back into the stage presence of Ashes O’Reilly, or would she linger on the edges? Really, there was only one way to find out.

  
  


The five of them manage to get through another couple of songs fully before Basira joins them. Martin surprises them all by insisting they repeat [_‘_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXtveKZEZK0)[_Strange Meeting'_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXtveKZEZK0) so he can enter the fray, his voice light but surprisingly powerful. Daisy takes Thor’s part while Tim narrates, the others joining in with enthusiasm and good humor.   
When Basira finally makes it down she looks harried, strained, like whatever conversation with Elias had taken something out of her.

But she came to the music, and Jon makes eye contact for a moment.

There's something in her eyes that makes the next choice easy enough. The first notes of [‘](https://youtu.be/9eYALygp32w?t=1501)[_Lucky Sevens'_](https://youtu.be/9eYALygp32w?t=1501) swirl between them, Jon maintaining eye contact with her as he sings. There's gravel in his voice and a looseness in his bones as he sings, as open an invitation as she's going to get.

Wild joy overtakes him when Basira hits her cue, and it’s like neither of them ever left the stage.

Daisy is grinning like Basira hung the stars, and Tim and Martin are sharing a laugh at the sheer amount of drama the two of them are capable of, as he and Basira mock face off and play out the stage’s drama.  
This feels right. This feels _ good _. The charge in his bones, and the movement, dragging his friends higher into raucous joy and freedom. Freedom from the professionalism and distance he had tried to maintain.

To have this freedom again, even for a handful of moments, is sweeter than he remembers it being. To share this freedom with _ these _people is a gift he couldn’t have anticipated. A gift he’s more grateful for than Jon thinks he’ll ever be able to express. (There’s a soft ache of grief for missed opportunities, for Sasha who’s true face he doesn’t know even now, for moments never taken.)

When _ ‘Sevens’ _ reaches its conclusion, he gives Basira a crooked smile. “I was worried you’d put Ashes away for good, _ Detective _.” Jon worries he might have gone too far with that, hit too much a sore spot. But Basira laughs half breathlessly, and relief buzzes through him that she took it in good humor.  
“That’s rich coming from you, all dry and _respectable._” He’s not sure if it’s Tim or Melanie who barks a laugh at that, but he’s glad for it. He can clearly see Daisy bite back a grin. 

There’s a lightness in the air, in Jon’s heart, like a weight has been temporarily lifted. Not just from himself, but from these people who surround him in this moment. That freedom, sweeping them along into joy and catharsis. Joy found in the worst of times and circumstances, the way joy should be found: together, through story and song. 

They make their way through a handful more songs, all together at last. Sometimes repeating a song they can all agree on, sometimes letting Melanie or Jon or Basira take the lead and choose. Stomping and clapping out the beat together, Jon’s natural showmanship bringing laughter to all of them as he slips firmly into Jonny d’Ville. All together, the rightness settles even further into his bones and he lets out a wild cackle, as they all launch into a new song. 

  
  


As all things do, this reaches an end. They’re laughing and grinning, when someone knocks on the door. It’s Martin who opens it, and thank fuck it wasn’t Elias on the other side. It’s someone unfamiliar, maybe a student. They say something about being sent down to give a statement, and there’s a moment of silent questioning between the six of them. There’s a reluctance to leave the safety of this moment together, almost outside of the dangers their lives have become. Jon is almost positive it isn’t going to be a real statement, but he still has a responsibility, they all do. He can see in their eyes that they know that as well.   
He grumbles silently, as he folds himself back into Jon Sims, head archivist, shaking tension back into his bones and forcing himself to stretch and readjust. It feels temporary this time, like something starting to settle into rest.  
He gives his friends a smile that is somewhere between his own dry smirks, and d’Ville’s maniac grins.

Nothing is fixed, there is still a tension strung between them under the weight of the Institute’s gaze. All of them know that the situation is going to go to shit and soon. But for today, they are a group of friends, who just had a hell of a lot of fun.  
Jon is sure he wouldn’t mind doing that again.

**Author's Note:**

> Links to all songs are included in the text.  
For Lucky Sevens, imagine a lot of the 'face-off' being that same body language from the live.


End file.
